Flatbush Avenue

 by: Staley Cole Smith

© 2019 by the Author

 

The author retains all rights. No reproductions are allowed without the author's consent. Comments are appreciated at...

scsmith@tickiestories.us
 

Chapter 8
GOOD IS BETTER

 

The following day while checking his email, Asa saw something from Adam.

 

Good morning Grandpa,

Yesterday was perfect and I made a real friend. I want you to know that. I found the Ben Franklins that you slipped into my pocket. I am going to return them. Please don’t do that.

Adam

 

Asa replied immediately

 

Good morning to you Adam,

Yes, I never could have succeeded without your help. Special you are. Please keep them, it’s a birthday gift. It has to be sometime this year.

 

Text me later; I just learned how to text with my new Smart Phone.  Ha-ha.

Asa

 

Asa looked through the rest of his email but it was mostly junk and advertisements.  What few friends he still had, didn’t bother sending email except for Bernie. Still, most of the time, Bernie would telephone to pump him for gossip and information. Bernie was one of the old-time faigeleh (queen) of Flatbush, who flamed about, as a teen ager, and an old fool, as a senior; but what the heck, Bernie was Bernie.

 

Asa turned off the computer and made himself some tea and toast. He wasn’t sure if Adelaide was coming to clean today or not, so he checked his calendar. Asa insisted she tell him what days to expect her; but that didn’t always happen.

 

Adelaide hadn’t planned to work much longer. She had a sister living in Indiana who was elderly and alone. She wanted to go to Fort Wayne and take care of her. It was just a matter of time, and Asa would have to find another housekeeper. He wasn’t fond of that idea, so he didn’t think about it.  It seemed like everything was a bump in the road, but it made for good theatre.

 

He looked around the apartment and stared at stacks of books. He would read a little, become bored, and reach for another book. Adelaide would put them all back on the shelf, finding fault with the clutter.

 

He thought about Adam saying to him – “Gosh, you must read a lot. There are books everywhere.” And a warm feeling came over him.

 

The phone rang and it was Bernie. He saw his name on caller ID.

 

“Now what?” thought Asa?

 

“Hello sugar shorts - How was your romp in bed yesterday? Asked Bernie

 

“Stop with the sugar shorts - Romps, I don’t do. It was a false alarm.”

 

“Stood up – huh?

 

“Something like that, but who cares.”

 

“I don’t believe you; who was this person?”

 

“Forget about it. Are you still buying me lunch today?” asked Asa

 

“The specials are good,” replied Bernie

 

“Okay, I will order the special; that leaves you scheckel’s to spend on flesh. I know you,” replied Asa, “you always have money for flesh.”

 

“Nothing, do you know!! Wait - maybe you do”

 

“Of course – we are two of a kind; a couple of old flames from Flatbush.

 

Ahh, those were the days, when I could move like a dancer. Now everything is nothing and I don’t move so good.”

 

“Try Viagra,” concluded Bernie

 

“I did, and it gave me palpitations with nobody to fuck; so for me, such a waste. I struggle but, I am still okay without taking pills.” confessed Asa

 

“Tougher than Mother Goose, you are Asa, but naive as Little Red Riding Hood”

 

“Nonsense, that’s a story.”

 

“Everyone has a story; still time is passing you by.”

 

“I’m old, you smuck, give me a break.”

 

“There is just no talking to you Asa. You’re annoying but precious.”

 

“You know what Henry VIII said?”

 

“I have a feeling you are about to tell me”

 

Henry the VIII said; - “Don’t let yourself die before you’re dead”

 

That’s dumb”

 

“You think so?”

 

“What did Henry know? Married six times and he couldn’t get it right”

 

“Such a putz you are, just forget about him…… oy vey”

 

Kay’s was an established Jewish deli on Flatbush Avenue, who catered parties and bar mitzvah.  They served wonderful sandwiches and hot soups at lunchtime. They baked custard desserts, but things like rolls and bread, they purchased from the Morse Bakery where Adam worked.

 

“Meet me in an hour at Kay’s deli. Today’s special is homemade chicken noodle soup with rye bread or, corn beef on rye or pumpernickel. You choose.”

 

“We’ll see”

 

“What’s with this – ‘we’ll see’ I just told you,” said Bernie  

 

“I might want something off the menu, don’t worry, I will buy my own lunch”

 

“Get what you want, I was being helpful”

 

“Helpful – ha; you were being cheap. I bet you were not cheap with Adam Wexler. Asa said

 

“That is different.”

 

“Of course, it’s always different; warm chicken soup or Adam Wexler, - you choose! - what’s to think about - take the Jew?”

 

“You’re terrible” said Bernie

 

“I try”

 

“No more, can I listen to you; meet me for lunch”

 

“Okay”

 

They met at Kay’s and oddly enough, they both ordered corn beef on buttered pumpernickel bread with potato salad and drank ice tea for their beverage.

 

After lunch they walked for a while over Flatbush Avenue, then stopped to see Carrie, who tended bar in the afternoon, at the ‘Meow club,’ all within walking distance.

 

“Good afternoon ladies” – did the senior bus just let you off? Carrie asked

 

“We walked, and don’t get mouthy, or I’ll let the air out of your fake boobs” said Bernie

 

“You can’t. I don’t have any boobs.”

 

“So I see,” added Bernie.  She looked like a boy in a hunting vest.

 

“You look nice today Bernie, I recognize the shirt from 10 years ago, that you wore on New Year’s Eve.” Carrie said, getting back at him”

 

“I recycle”

 

“Stop,” interrupted Asa. No place, Bernie, do you go, where your mouth doesn’t run.”

 

“Okay, Bernie mumbled and stopped talking; another word I won’t be saying.”

 

“What you’ll have, men? Carrie asked rather business like and reading up, at the end of the sentence.

 

Bernie quickly responded – “I’ll him every 4 hours; referring to a well-built man, leaving little to the imagination. He was older but still younger than either of them. He had everything well defined in the right place.

 

“Will it be a bottle or a glass?” Carrie asked completely ignoring Bernie.

 

“Glass,” they both said at the same time.

 

“I’ll bring them over, and I know, you want the damn glass to be sparkling clean. Am I right or am I wrong?” Carrie said;

 

“So right you are and I love how good you remember,” said Asa as they cozied up to a small round table.

 

While sitting and sipping their beer, Bernie kept watching the man at the bar. He looked hot from the back wearing cream-colored khaki pants that clung to a melon shape butt. 

 

“Bernie, stop, you are drooling – so obvious you are; a teen idol you’re not; an old fool however, is a real possibility”

 

“Asa, look at the butt on that guy; he is built for riding. I bet that gets packed a lot.”

 

“Get over yourself - YOU, he will never notice; besides, he is talking to somebody.”

 

“I know, I am only saying for you to look…”

 

“You have been saying for 10 minutes.  Stiffel yourself, enough already,”

 

“Asa, take a look; do you see what I see?”

 

“I do, Adam Wexler is with him, and he is rubbing his backside.  Oy, now he’s rubbing his ass and squeezing it”

 

“Call him over,” said Bernie

 

“Who”

 

“Adam, you Yutz; I want to ask him something”

 

“Call him yourself. Maybe you better leave well enough alone.” Commented Asa

 

“That’s meshugameh, he knows us.”

 

Bernie motioned to Adam to come over, but Adam ignored him.

 

“I don’t think he saw me.” Said Bernie

 

“He saw you, forget about it.”

 

“No, I’m determined”

 

“Stupid, is what you are”

 

Finally, after seeing Bernie waving his arms like he was directing an airplane, Adam came over to the table.

 

“Hi Asa, it’s good to see you,” he said politely.   “What’s with Bernie waving his arms?”

 

“I’ll tell you ‘what’s with Bernie” - Bernie said to him, rather bossy; “I want you to introduce me to that hot man you are talking to.”

 

“In a brief two second speech, Adam said to Bernie……

 

“I don’t care what you want; and don’t come over and speak to me when I’m with somebody; just don’t do it,” then went back to the bar never turning around again.

 

“What a jerk. It took a chutzpah for such a kibitzer, to say that to us” complained Bernie  

 

“He said it to you, not me. I don’t want to meet his friend, Leave them alone. You were young once – remember.” Said Asa

 

“Wexler can be vacant intellectually; face it – the kid is pushy, and you call me pushy.”

 

“Something like that; but who cares. Forty years ago, I would be hurt maybe offended by Wexler, but now it’s only a fart in the wind. Forget about it.”

 

“Good answer; wind should clear the air. That Wexler is a fuck-up anyway.”

 

“I think it’s a possibility,” added Asa

 

“You have real answers for everything.”

 

“I try, it comes from practice.” Concluded Asa

 

They left the bar together and started down Flatbush Avenue, like they had done many times before.

 

“You know something Asa;” said Bernie

 

“I know a lot of things, so what?”

 

“I’m only saying…”

 

“Go ahead and say….”

 

“You can’t give friendship to someone who won’t take it”

 

“Give it a rest; I know where you’re going.”

 

“I’d really like too, but I can’t,” Bernie replied

 

“Do it anyway, it’s hardly a revolution, nothing I’m telling you. He’s young, it’s nothing.”

 

They had gone about two blocks when they came to a stop light.                        

 

“You want to know something else?” Bernie asked

 

“Not especially, but you are going to tell me anyway.”

 

“People have too many crappy qualities, we need another flood”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Yes, I think so,” answered Bernie. “Here we are; faigeleh (gays) from yesterday, and still a part of Flatbush Avenue; such memories we have stored in the treasure box”

 

“Keep the damn box closed, I can’t go through those years again,” said Asa, making light of the conversation.

 

“Do you want to know something more?” asked Bernie

 

“Enlighten me”

 

“Nobody has the capacity to love like a dog;” Kirk Douglas said that.

 

“So what does Kirk Douglas and a dog, have to do with anything?” 

 

“Nothing”

 

“Meshuggeneh, you are getting,”

 

“You think so?”

 

“Meshuggeneh - That’s what I said; didn’t I?”

 

“Maybe it was Randolph Scott, who said that, and not Kirk Douglas?”

 

“Oy, A big favor, please do for me” mumbled Asa

 

“What?”

 

“Shut up – just shut up”

 

The two of them stumbled along Flatbush Avenue, with their mouths and hands working in unison.  Old folks speak their mind, because they are on the slide path to the end.

 

Bernie and Asa were old flames, still walking the avenue, sliding towards their finish, but a long way from their end.

 

They parted and Asa walked to his building, passing the bench where he once saw Adam sitting in the park.

 

“I miss that Wexler, but I can’t deal with everything. Why everything needs to be dealt with in the first place, I don’t understand; common sense would go a long way when it comes to Wexler.

 

“Zut alors tomorrow is time enough for common sense; but that’s not gonna happen either.

 

I want more of Wexler; something I don’t see happening any time soon. Sometimes one needs a little help, good grief – that is so Norma Rae.

 

To be continued...

 


Posted: 09/30/19